Sophomore Year
by xXAwesomeSauceXx
Summary: One-shot...s? High school is...high school. It's Percy's sophomore year at Goode, and he runs into a certain pudgy-nosed man along the way. High school won't get any easier, but for Percy? You never know... ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Woo, first one-shot! I'm not sure if I should do a series of one-shots for Percy at school, so (for now?) this is…"complete" R&R!**

"_Mr. Jackson!" _screeched Mr. Nelson. My head shot up from the mention of my name. Out of habit, I reached for my pocket, where Riptide always reappeared. I looked around, making sure I wasn't in some life or death situation. Nope, just dozed off in history class. That's all. I hope.

Okay, so it's my sophomore year here at Goode High, but the teachers get worse and worse each year…well, other than Paul.

So, we were doing a unit on Ancient Greece in my history class. Now, in normal standards, this would be the class I looked forward to for the whole day. But with Nelson teaching the class?

Nuh uh, not going to happen.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, so why would I be falling asleep in a class about my, err…family? Well, good ole' Mr. Nelson teaches the wrong "myths" with the wrong people! I mean, is it _that_ hard to remember that my namesake, Perseus, was the one to "kill" Medusa, and not Jason?

"Uh, yes Mr. Nelson?" I asked, looking up.

"One more chance, Jackson. I'm giving you _one more chance. _If you slip up again, well, let's just say I don't have to put up with you in this class anymore." Nelson sneered with a crooked smile plastered on his face. Wait, is he seriously smiling? Could he be a monster?

Hmph. Probably not, because by now, monsters would be all "Silly demigod!" or "Puny Son of Poseidon" on me. And after that, he/she would introduce his/her freakishly large monster-ego. I mean seriously, they all say "Ha ha ha, you cannot defeat me, Perseus Jackson! No one has ever been able to—AGH! " When you're like me, things like that get pretty routine.

"…and so Mr. Jackson, since you _were_ listening to my lesson, I assume you can answer this question. Now, which of the Greek goddesses was forced to live with Hades, after eating six **(A/N: Is that the right amount?)** pomegranate seeds? Hmm?" Nelson asked, taking me out of my thoughts.

Seriously? This was the best he could do to catch me "off guard"?

"That's easy, sir. It's Persephone who lives with Hades six months a year." I answered confidently. Only after I answered, did I notice that I was talking in present tense…whoops. Well, not that anyone would notice…right?

"Incorrect, Jackson. Hades lived with Demeter in the Underworld. I believe that you should pay more attention." He said, glaring at me. _Demeter?_ Dem—freaking—eter? Gah, that's not even… if that happened, the world would positively blow up.

The bell rang, signaling lunch, and I sighed in relief. I couldn't stand another minute of Nelson time. Tiredly, I rose from my desk and walked towards the door… along with the 32 other students in the class who couldn't wait to escape Nelson's wrath.

Luckily, my locker wasn't far from History. After grabbing a few books for the next three periods (and my lunch), I slammed my locker close. I turned around to see other students staring at something down the hallway.

"Peter Johnson, I'd like to have a word with you." A new voice said from not far away. Passing students chuckled at the name that was just spoken…There was only one person who called me by that name... _No. He can't possibly be—_

"Mr. D?" I asked. I mean, Dionysus never leaves camp, except for very floccinaucinihilipilification* occasions. Yeah, it's a real word. I can be OOC and smart when I want to.

Anyways…I turned around to find myself in the pudgy face of Mr. D, eyebrows knitted together, nose as plum as ever.

"Erm, so, uh, what exactly are you doing here, Mr. D?" I said, trying to keep my voice low.

"Listen Peter, most of the satyrs at camp are either already at schools, or on Grover's silly little mission," Mr. D's face grew more annoyed with each word. "So Chiron, I mean, _Mr. Brunner,_ thought it would be a _wonderful_ idea for me to look for more little brats like you, here in the, quote, 'Nations's ever changing education!'"

I stared at Dionysus in disbelief. If the was a shortage of protectors, wouldn't Chiron himself just go?

"...So you're going to be a teacher here?" I asked quickly, knowing that if this conversation carried on any longer, I wouldn't have much time for lunch.

"Yes. I believe you know a teacher by the name 'Dexter Nelson'? Well, after a mysterious...disappearance, Mr. Nelson will be substituted by me." Mr. D grumbled, "Well, why are you still standing there? I believe your lunch period is about to end, no? So off you go, shoo!"

While walking off, I realized something.

_This is going to be one _long_ year.

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**A/N: I'm not sure if i should make this into a series of one-shots...should I? I have some pretty good ideas ready, but, uh... yeah. So did that make a good one-shot? I know it was kinda rushed, so I'll either edit this, or add a chapter on Sunday...so do you love it? Hate it? Want to throw it out the window? :)**

**V**

**V**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, another one-shot worty thought came to me in the shower (where most of my ideas come from .), so as you requested, I'll carry this on as a series of one-shots... Also, last chapter was... well, I don't exactly don't know how to carry on from there, so this won't exactly "flow" from one one-shot to the other. (Only some will have Mr. D) I'll try not to disappoint :)**

* * *

"Alfred Aberman!" Mrs. Morris, our substitue, said calling attendance.

"Present," replied a geeky kid with dented, round glasses.

"Zachary Adler."

"Here," some bald(ish) guy said in a clearly bored tone.

"Robert Clayton."

This time, no one answered Mrs. Morris.

"Has anyone seen Mr. Clayton?" she asked the class. Still, no one replied. Morris took that as a no, and scribbed something onto the clipboard she was holding.

About eleven or twelve names were called until Mrs. Morris got to, "Percy Jackson!"

"Here," I answered, my voice muffled by the desk stuck to my cheek.

We spent most of the class time listening to the sub call attendance, since she had trouble pronouncing a handful of names, like "Ullises Xochilchilla".

"Well, you all have such interesting names. Please take out your World History textbooks, turn to page 348, and take notes on the Byzantine Empire." Morris asked us, as she returned to her desk. The class groaned.

Before most of us could take out our textbooks, an alarm went off out in the hall.

"Fire drill!" Zack Adler yelled in a relieved tone, making sure he was the first one out of the class. "Outta my way, dorks!"

The hallway flooded with people when I heard someone call, "Hey Perce!"

I turned around and saw the face of Andrew Renallow, this kid who follows me around like a stray dog.

"Oh...hey." I sighed, stuffing my hands in my pocket of my hoodie.

"So, lucky timing on the fire drill, huh? By the way, have you heard about this cool card game, called Mythomagic? It's based on Greek Mythology, and I know that's something you're hooked on!" Andrew babbled.

I grimaced at the mention of the childish game, which had cost Bianca di Angelo's life. I continued to nod and "mhmm" every few minutes, to give Andrew the impression that I was still listening.

We stepped outside, onto the damp November grass.

"Hey, who does this poodle belong to?" asked Mr. Johnson, the school's vice principle. That 'poodle' line sounded familiar... Oh gods, a teacher had asked that question about two years ago, just before me, Thalia, and Nico were sent on a, uh, 'quest' to the Underworld by Persephone.

I ditched Andrew the moment he turned around, and walked towards Mr. Johnson. "Um, what do you mean, Mr. Johnson?" I asked, knowing Mrs. O'Learly would pop out of nowhere.

"There! This is school property, and who ever this dog belongs to will be punished!" Mr. Johnson exclaimed. He pointed towards a bush, where a giant, black, red-eyed dog.

"Erm, that's my...poodle, Mr. Johnson. I'll take her home, sir."

The vice principle shot a glare at me. "This is the second time this happened, Jackson. Considering your reletionship with Mr. Blofis, I'll let this slide. But don't let this happen a third time."

I ran over to the side of the building, towards Mrs. O' Leary "Hey girl! What aren't you at camp?"

She barked an insufficient "AROOF!" which could have meant anything from _There's trouble at camp! _to_ Annabeth wouldn't give me any hotdogs!_ I sighed, remembering what happened last time Mrs. O' Leary visited me at Goode.

She patted her tail on the ground, and the ground faintly rumbled.

"Go back to Camp Half Blood, okay girl? I play with you in the summer,"

Within seconds, I was covered in hellhound drool. Mrs. O' Leary barked happily, and bounced into the shadows.

I figured that by now, the fire drill was over, and everyone had gone back into school. After wiping Mrs, O' Leary's drool off my face, I headed back into the school.

"Hey nerd, I heard your poodle followed you to school...again!" Zack scoffed when I stepped into his line of vision.

"...Yeah, she was just looking for someone to play with," I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

Zack stopped. "What, no nerdy comeback? No crippling in fear? That's like, the ONLY fun thing about picking on you dorks!"

"Err, sorry...?" I said, confused.

"I am like, the coolest person in this whole freaking school! I, like, OWN this place! What makes you think that you can stop being scared of me all of a sudden?" Adler continued. Arrogant much?

"Well? Answer me, punk!" He said, shoving me back outside the building.

_Punk?_ Great, now he's going to be all Clarisse on me.

Hmph. What makes me think I can 'stop' being afraid of him? Well, I guess _partial_ truth won't hurt. (I mean, these 'lying classes', that the Stolls are trying to give me, probably won't do any good.)

"Gods, Zack, what's wrong with you? I mean, you're a nosy, conceited, and not to mention, _smelly_ jerk! You want to know why I'm not 'crippling in fear'? It's because you're not the worst thing I've experienced. In fact, I could hurt you very easily, but that's not what I want to do. You want to _frighten_ me, huh? Well try harder." And with that I tried to sneak back into the school. But with a fat 'bully' on your tail, that probably won't work.

Zack's eyebrows knitted together, while he tried to process what I had just said.

"You? You, Jackson, think you could 'hurt' me? Psh, yeah right! You're one of the wimpiest kids in this dump! I bet you're just making all of that crap up! And did you say 'gods'? As in plural? You're such a weirdo!"

And with that, Adler retreated to his gang. I sighed.

High school getting easier? Pft. Not for me.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello readers! Well, here's another short one-shot (my first 3rd person POV!) to get rid of my writer's block...well, my writer's block doesn't have to do w/ **Gabe:UnPetrified**, because my I already have an idea ready to fix any left over plot-holes...Well, I was just too lazy to update another chapter, so...R&R! (Takes place after TLO... I originally wanted it to be post TLO, but whatever floats your boat.)

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Students fiddled with their pencils, threw crumpled pieces of paper around, and called across the room to one another. It was just another day at Goode High School, in Mr. Blowfis' English class.

"...Get away," muttered a certain green-eyed boy in his sleep. Every now and then, his whole body would twitch.

"...Annabe-" the boy began, vigorously shaking his head, eyes still closed. Absentmindedly, his hand reached for his pocket, where a certain bronze pen was placed.

"Kronos...Annabeth! Stop! " he yelled, surprising some of his classmates. Nearby students turned their heads to stare at the black-haired boy.

"Aww, wittle Percy's having another nightmare!" mocked a 'cool kid' from across the classroom. Students erupted in laughter, after hearing that comment.

The door on the right side of the classroom swung open, and a salt-and-pepper-haired man stepped into the room.

"Class, what did I tell you about being quiet while I'm outside?" The man sighed.

A short brunette raised her hand. "Mr. Blowfis!"

"Yes, Taylor?" the man sighed, placing a pile of papers on a desk at the front of the class.

"Percy fell asleep again!" Taylor said, in between giggles.

Paul Blowfis' eyes widened at the girl's statement, and practically ran over to the left side of his classroom.

Percy, still sleeping, muttered, "Get..away...from her... "

Paul placed his hands on his stepson's shoulders, and shook him hard. "Percy, wake up."

Groggily, Percy opened one eye. "Paul? Wha? Wh-where's..."

"Get up, Perce. You were just having a bad dream." Paul reminded him.

"How come Percy gets to sleep in class? I mean, I can't get away with an extra hour of sleep, and even _I_ have better grades than that kid!" Exclaimed one of Paul's students.

Paul's head quickly turned around, "Percy Jackson went through hard times,"

"Pft, what kind of hard times? Did his dad leave like mine did? I don't think so!"

Paul didn't have to answer. He just needed to make sure that Percy was okay. He could already see small tears form in Percy's eyes.

"Percy, it's okay," Paul said, in reassuring tone.

Percy shook his head, "N-no, you don't understand, Paul! It was Annabeth...she, she joined L-Lu..." Percy couldn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to, for Paul to know what he was talking about.

"Percy, it was only a dream," Paul reminded him.

"But you know that demigod dreams always mean something!" Percy closed his eyes tightly, trying to prevent tears from flowing out. The rest of the class watched in amusement.

Paul glanced around, noticing that his class was listening intently. He spoke a bit quieter, "The war was more than a year ago, and Annabeth would never leave you."

"But, Paul!" Percy argued.

"Percy, we'll talk about this later."

Percy grumbled, and walked out of the classroom.

"Percy!" Paul Blofis called after his son. He turned to his class, who had assumed that Percy Jackson was the strangest person on Earth. "Class, turn to, ah, page 423 in your textbooks. I'll be right back."

He ran after Percy, and entered the hallway.

"...But we don't have any textbooks!" said one of his students, but Paul was already far away from his classroom.

"Percy?" he called, wandering the empty hallways. Suddenly, he heard banging in the 9th grade wing.

Paul saw Percy, sitting against the lockers, head in his hands. He walked over and sat next to him, as comfortable as an adult could.

"Everything's fine, Percy." Paul said, but he didn't dare put a hand on his stepson's shoulder.

"No, Paul, nothing's fine." Percy said, his voice muffled from his hands.

"Annabeth wouldn't betray you Pe-"

"It's not about Annabeth!" Percy yelled. Paul remained silent for a bit, thinking about what to say.

Come to think of it, Paul never planned what to talk about, when things had to do with Percy. Paul thought of what to say as time went by. Not all in one moment. It's not like you can prepare yourself for things like the _Talk_, when your son is a demigod.

"Beckendorf. Bianca. Ethan. Castor. All of them! All the casualties during the war! I, I could've prevented it!" Percy told him, lifting his head out of his hands.

Paul contemplated that for a while. "I didn't think you'd know what the term 'casualties during war' meant."

"Stop trying to change the subject, Paul." Percy said, through gritted teeth.

Paul glanced at the clock at the end of the hallway. 4th period was practically over. Students and teachers would make their way into the hallway any minute now. He took the risk of placing a hand on Percy's shoulder.

"C'mon, Perce. Everyone knows that it wasn't your fault. Let's go before the period ends. I mean, if people see you crying out here, that'll give me and your mother another way to embarrass you in front of Annabeth."

After a while, a lopsided grin formed on Percy's face, just like his old self. "I was _not_ crying."

Paul laughed, "Whatever tickles your peach, Perce!"

Soon, Percy found himself laughing along with his stepfather. Paul stood up, pretended to dust off his knees, then offered a hand to Percy.

"We should do this more often, Paul." Percy suggested.

Paul raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"This was a pretty good way to waste class time. Probably one of my best ideas yet," Percy told him, getting off of the floor.

Paul chuckled, "Did you seriously make this _all _up?"

"Heh, maybe..." Percy said sheepishly.

"I have to say, that was quite impressive."

"Err...okay. Wait, you're not mad?" Percy asked, confused to a certain extent. "I mean, you're a _teacher_,"

"Psh, and that gives me the right to _enjoy_ being with those annoying students?" Paul raised his hands up.

"You're not so bad...Mr. Blowfish," Percy announced, mocking his English teacher's last name.

Paul nodded his head. "I know. I know."

* * *

A/N: Okay, I know that some English classes have textbooks, but I don't care! (All the textbooks in my Language Arts class suddenly 'disappeared' one day.) Sorry for that suckish one-shot. I know that the end was a complete FAIL. Anyways...please review!


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